


Met A Boy At the Rock Show

by bo_beans



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Australian Slang, Drinking, First Date, Fluff, Gen, I like shy dudes, I really wanted this haha, I think that came through, I tried my best anyway, I'm a big lover of punk, Not Beta Read, Overwatch - Freeform, Overwatch AU, Punk!Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Slow Dancing, a bit - Freeform, and guys who are submissive haha, based on a blink 182 song, cocky even, confident!reader, gender neutral reader, just a little lol, kind of a song fic, lots of fluff, lots of swearing, punk clothing, punk!rat, shy!junkrat, so sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bo_beans/pseuds/bo_beans
Summary: A night out at a punk show and you run into a pretty interesting guy who might be just your type. Based on Blink-182's "Rock Show".Multi-chapter work...
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. Rock Show

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fic in so long!! Feels good to be back haha. I looked up Aussie slang for this but still not quite great at it...
> 
> PLEASE! Let me know if you enjoyed this because I have a second chapter idea if you guys want it, but only if you respond well/lmk what you think! Thanks for your support as always.

None of your friends wanted to go to the show you bought a last-minute ticket to, and that was okay because you were kind of needing the alone time away from them for the night. You thought you’d just show up, enjoy the music and dance by yourself, and then head home and sleep. It seemed like a simple plan, except you hadn’t really factored in meeting a certain someone that night.

It was already around 7 pm and you were only just starting to get ready for a show that was supposed to start at 7:30 and knowing you would be late. Bands usually came out on stage late, anyway, you told yourself. It’d be fine. The venue was only about 10-ish minutes away and it was small so it’d be easy to get in no problems. Just scan your phone and in you’d go. The real problem was figuring out what you’d wear. The band was some underground post-punk type (or whatever genre, it didn’t need a label) and you wanted to look your best. Not that you were looking to find someone, but because it’d been a while since you got to put on those platform Doc Martens with the spikes on the toe and you wanted an outfit that said “I’m here to fuck shit up” which was exactly what you intended to do that night. Eventually you pulled out your favorite pair of crust jeans that you spent years collecting patches for, paired with some belts and a pant chain and an old ripped t-shirt, some necklaces, and rings. You finished the look with tousling and teasing your hair quickly and spraying it to keep it as messy as possible and then smudging some purple-red shadow on your lids and making a quick wing with a point under your eye. A nice deep burgundy red on your lips and you felt ready to kick ass. You threw on your leather jacket that you’d pinned and patched and you headed out the door without a word to your roommates hanging out on the couch.

You were right to think the band would be on late. You arrived in the knick of time just as they were halfway through the first song, and though you kicked yourself for missing even that much, it was too late to care. The energy in the room was incredible. The lights were down and smoke seemed to be hanging over the heads of everyone. Amidst heads of liberty spikes and mohawks and braids and shaved heads people were dancing, pushing, and pulling about like a wave of never-ending punks. It was...beautiful. You definitely missed this. But it was also a bit hard to enjoy by yourself, especially considering the constant movement of the crowd: everyone was pushing or trying to mosh, and the only ‘safety’ from that was in the back of the room by the bar and you didn’t exactly want to hang back there and not see anything the whole night. So you pushed back, trying to make your way closer to the front of the stage. You nudged another person out of your way, yelling a quick “sorry’xcuseme!” as you made your way past. You heard a quick “oi!” in your direction and glanced at the source of the annoyed voice, looking up at the tall and lanky figure standing before you. He had an angular face and wild yellow eyes that seemed to want to swallow you whole, and to top it off he had an incredibly spiked mohawk shooting straight up from his head. 

“Sorry!” you said, smiling before dissolving back into the crowd. He was kinda cute, you thought to yourself. Not in the usual way you’d think someone was cute. He wasn’t the type you’d take home to mom (not that you’d pick that type anyway), but he had a good cut to his face and those eyes were just gorgeous. You could imagine taking him home...maybe.

The rest of the night was spent rocking out like the rest of the crowd and avoiding the pit in the middle at all costs. Wouldn’t do you any good to get hurt or fall over in your platforms, least of all miss some of the performance. The night was starting to wind to an end and the crowd was slowly becoming smaller as though who wanted to beat the traffic and get home left early. 

“Oi, sheila!” a voice called behind you over the crowd. You turned around, almost smacking your face right in the near-bare chest of the tall mohawk dude. Despite the loud music you could hear his laugh and feel his chest move with it. 

“I seem to just be hitting you all the time!” you yelled up to him.

“Ya, well, it’s choc a bloc out here, ain’t it?” he said. You could feel your head tilt as you tried to piece out what he said between his heavy Australian accent and the slang. But you got enough of it to understand what he meant. 

“Ya it is, isn’t it,” you remarked. Did he have a reason to talk to you or was he just tryna get you to apologize for earlier? You didn’t exactly hate the attention from him but you were a bit confused about the guy. He seemed to just be staring at you, kind of lost in thought. “Ya need somethin’?” you asked, your tone a bit biting. Your roommates told you off for always sounding too rude but you just couldn’t help being annoyed. You weren’t here to stare at him the whole time.

He shook himself a bit and gave you a toothy grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Roight, ya, me and my mates were gonna get a coldie after this and I wanted ta know if you’d tag along?” He smiled wider, and then stopped, adding hurriedly “‘Course, if ya wanna? Ya don’t have to.”

You stared at him real hard this time, looking him up and down. He was still over a half foot taller than you even with your platforms on, and he was wearing what looked like a mesh t-shirt with a leather jacket over and crust jeans like you and a pair of boots. He had a bridge piercing and another on two on his lip, and peeking out of all the mesh seemed to be a tattoo on his chest that you couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t seem intimidating or frightening at all but also what kind of person wanders off with some random dude and his friends from a concert? ...well....hm. 

“You tryna kill me or somethin’?” you asked, glaring at him. Despite being shorter than him he did seem to be intimidated by you, however, and his back hunched as he wrung his hands and giggled nervously. 

“No, I ain’t…”

“I don’t know about another bar, but you can buy me a drink here if you’re dying to.” He immediately perked up, his eyes firing up again as he nodded furiously. If you didn’t know better you would’ve thought he’d have a tail wagging just like a puppy. “Let’s go, then,” you said, grabbing his hand and pushing your way to the back of the room again. It was sad to leave your spot but the show was ending soon enough so it wouldn’t be bad to sit at the back and rest your feet for a little while. 

You ordered you beer and sat on one of the stools there as he stood awkwardly next to you, glancing back and forth between you and the band, giggling nervously. It was kind of cute to have a guy so nervous...sure, it was nice to have cocky guys around so you could put them on their knees, but this wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You turned to him, taking a swig. “So…” you gestured to him.

“Jamie. Name’s Jamie…”

“Jamie. You’re not gonna have a drink?” 

“I was holding off for later but I guess I could…” You offered your bottle to him. He paid, so why not? Plus you kinda wanted to see him squirm just a little more. He blushed, about to sputter out a negative before you pushed it against his chest, insisting. He took hold of the bottle, your fingers brushing. (If you were honest you were intentionally slow to let go of the bottle, your hand sliding over his more than necessary). He held the bottle to his lips and you could hear a slight clink as his piercings hit the glass. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t stare. He was kinda cute now that you were really looking at him. And though the back of the venue wasn’t much more quiet than the rest, it was kind of nice to just sit and share a moment with this stranger. 

“You do this often, Jamie?” you asked, smirking.

“Well I try to go to shows a lot, ya…”

“I meant picking people up,” you said, smiling. You let out a chuckle, looking up at his face as it grew red. 

“N-not really…But you’re a beaut, sheila…” You felt a blush creep across your face, and you brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face to distract yourself.

“Yea, yea, sure ya don’t…” you laughed. 

He leaned closer in, his hand against the bar. “I don’t. But you’re an exception. Hooley dooley are you an exception!” he grinned. You wondered why you didn’t notice how sharp his teeth seemed before. Wonder if his bite is better than his bark…You leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest. You sat up on the stool so that your mouth was close to his ear.

“Well, I’m glad I’m the exception,” you said to him, a sentence clipped by your laugh at the end. You could hear as well as feel the giggles that ran through him. Your hand slid against his chest, feeling a piece of cold metal. Guess this guy has nipple rings. Good plus.

Waking you out of your little moment was the sound, or rather lack thereof that echoed in the venue. Seemed like the night was at an end. You hummed, your hand still against his chest with him looking ever more excited and nervous at once. “Ya got a pen?” you called to the bartender. You uncapped it and grabbed the nearest napkin to you, scribbling your number and name before tucking it into the front pocket of Jamie’s pants. You pecked a quick kiss to his face that left a mark of dark red where your lips were. You patted his front pocket lightly, “Call me sometime, hm?” and walked off. You had a feeling he’d be fun.


	2. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie asks you out. You say yes. VERY fluffy, extremely sweet and cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by the Blink-182 song of the same name! Btw I was thinking of Polish Club’s Triple J cover of “Say So” for the slow dance song in the pub scene if you want to listen and read along!!! Hope you guys like how fluffy this is and I'm sorry it took so long to update!!! Please enjoy, I might write another chapter or two if y'all like!!

It wasn’t too long after that night that you got a string of nervous texts from Jamie. The first was “Hi! It’s Jamie”, followed by “the guy from the show last night” and “would you wanna go out sometime?” and then “only if you want to, though! No pressure”. You couldn’t help but giggle. It seemed like he’d spent a lot of time thinking out what to say and had sent it all in one nervous rush, each text sent only about a minute after the previous one. (He’d also sent them all at around 7 in the morning, surprisingly early). You sat up in bed reading them over and over, thinking about how much he was probably beating himself up for how he sounded. Better put him out of his misery, then, you thought. 

“Hey Jamie, I’d love to go out. What were you thinking?” If anyone noted that you were smiling (or rather, smirking) at your phone you’d deny it. But you were more than excited to see him again, albeit not just because he kinda had a cute face. 

The reply was almost instant, another series of texts that said “a friend of mine plays at a local pub”, “but we could do something else!”, and “we could get dinner, too”. It was refreshing not having a play-it-cool type of guy hanging around. It was always more fun to have the kind that hung at the end of a leash like an eager puppy. 

“Dinner and a show? Sounds good ;)” you responded. You could almost picture the blush on his cheeks again like when you shared that beer with him, thinking how good pink looked next to those bright yellow eyes of his.

\-------

You both decided to grab dinner at the pub before the show, and although he very kindly asked and insisted on driving you there, your instincts told you to hold off on getting into a car with or giving your address to a near stranger just yet. (Though you did think about it just to see what kinda car he had). The outfit of the night was an old thrifted band t-shirt, a long black maxi skirt with some frilly black socks and demonias. You put on an old pearl necklace and a few others, plus some fishnet elbow-length fingerless gloves and a few rings. You smudged some black and brown shadow on your eyes and put on a deep reddish-brown lipstick to finish the look. You curled your hair just a bit at the ends and called it good enough after fussing over it too long. Were you…. Getting nervous? No way… you thought. You scoffed at yourself. Nervous? God…

Arriving a bit late wasn’t bad, since it wouldn’t be hard to find Jamie. You immediately spotted his tall figure (accentuated by his even taller hair) and walked over. “You alone, handsome?” you purred. 

“Actually I’m waiting for- Oh!” he turned around half-way through his sentence, his serious look dissolving into a big, toothy grin. “Sorry darl’, thought you was someone else.” 

You couldn’t help your smirk. “Nope, just me…” You could feel his eyes roaming over you, taking in every inch. “See something you like?” you interjected.

He blushed hard, and you could see him twitch a bit. He nervously jumbled his hands together. “‘Course I do, sheila… I asked y’out didn’t I? Ya look bloody gorgeous!” he murmured, averting his eyes. 

“Thank you...You don’t look too bad yourself.” You touched his arm gently. It seemed like you had electrified him almost from the way he reacted. (If you didn’t know better you’d think his hair stood even more on end than it already did). “So, food?” you asked when he finally caught his breath. He nodded. 

Even though he insisted, very kindly, on paying for your meal, you didn’t see the need. Pub grub tended to be quality and good price, so it was nothing to pay for your own. Plus it was nice to push him around a bit and set him down when he insisted too much. It was a good thing, too, that he didn’t pay for your meal because he seemed to barely eat any of his. 

“Something wrong with the food? We can ask them to swap it if they gave you the wrong thing,” you said, starting to raise your hand to get the attention of one of the bartenders. 

Jamie immediately took your hand and put it down. “No! No! Just...nerves, s’all…” he said. He didn’t even realize he was still holding your hand until you ran your thumb over his and he tried to pull back, apologizing. 

“S’alright. I don’t mind.” 

“Then, is it ok if I keep holding it?” he said, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. You nodded to his request, and held his one hand under the table while you both ate with the other. It was funny how such a tall guy could look up at you! You weren’t short by any means, but the way he had hunched himself at the table he almost came to your height sitting down. Not that you minded, of course… might come in handy later. 

Jamie was right to take you to see his friend’s band. The small punk-rock group was great, and a small group of moshers had formed at the front of the room. Jamie had pulled you to the side and back, standing close enough to you to push back anyone who stumbled or pushed too close to you, but he tried for the most part not to touch you. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling yourself pout. It wouldn’t be so bad if he would put his arm around you or something...you thought. Jamie nudged you a bit. 

“Y’okay, darl’? Do y’wanna leave?” His eyes were all concern as he looked down. 

“Huh? No! This is great...I just…” you trailed off as the songs switched. The mini-moshpit didn’t seem too happy about the slow love song the band was playing, but you thought it a perfect opportunity. “You wanna dance?” 

A long string of stutters came out of Jamie’s mouth. “Y-ya don’t think that’s embarrassing?” he murmured, hunching a bit to speak more easily to you again so you could hear over the sounds of the pub.

“Not at all.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the floor. It was a bit awkward to dance with him, since he was considerably taller even with your 2-inch platforms. But that didn’t stop you at all. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close. 

“Ain’t I supposed to be the one putting my hands on your waist?” he asked. But he didn’t seem to mind, telling from the way he smiled wide or the blush crossing from cheek to cheek. It was kinda sweet the way he looked at you. His eyes seemed like little flames in the dim lighting and smoke, and you wanted to know how bad they burned for you. You wondered if he did this often, the cute act. 

\-----

The song and set ended and you briefly met his friends, a few quick passing greetings and congratulations and compliments before Jamie shuffled you away while his friends needled him about his hot date. You smiled, taking his hand, enjoying the way he jumped and twitched again. “I know a place open late around here that sells cookies and stuff, wanna walk with me?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes at him. You dared him to try and say no (as if he would!). 

“C-course, let’s go,” he said, offering his arm to you. Real gentleman. It was quiet as you stepped out into the cold night, the sounds of your steps on the pavement filling in your silence. You got to take a good look at him now, under the streetlamps. He was wearing bleach and paint-splattered jeans and some real worn-in Docs with one of the band’s t-shirts and a leather jacket on top. His mohawk was spiked like before, with perfect little sharp points. “See something you like?” he teased, imitating you from earlier that night.

“I do,” you replied honestly. 

“I’m glad ‘cause I fussed about how to look good fer ya…” he muttered. “Took me longer to do my hair cause my hands were shakin’...” You couldn’t help but laugh. He gave you a pointed look that immediately dissolved into a soft smile. “It’s not funny!”

“Just….just a little…” you said in between laughs. 

You let him pay this time for your coffees and cookies and the two of you stood outside the cafe, leaning against the wall and taking small sips or bites. “Y’know… this was fun…” you said quietly, glancing up at him. 

“‘M glad,” he murmured. You reached for his cup, a London fog, and took a sip. It was a bit too sweet for your liking usually, but something gave you the feeling that kinda summed Jamie up. You made a small face and handed it back, Jamie laughing at you. “Whot? What’s wrong?” he laughed. 

“Too sweet...How do ya drink that stuff?” you demanded. 

“I just gotta sweet tooth, darl’.”

“Hmph.” You pouted, taking a sip of your coffee to balance out the flavor. 

“Mind if I try?” he asked. His eyes were bright, and his smile held mischief. You agreed, holding your coffee out to him. “Nah, darl’, ‘ meant you.”

This time it was you who was blushing. You could feel your face getting pink, and you couldn’t just blame it on the cold night or the wind. For the first time in a while you felt your stomach twisting, fluttering. You nodded to his request. He gently lifted your chin and placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Sweet… just how I like it,” he whispered. You’d pardon him for his cheesy line because your head felt like it was spinning a bit, and the blood felt like it was rushing all across your face, from your ears to your cheeks and back. 

He started to pull back and you grabbed him by the neck with your free hand and pulled him in for another kiss. You weren’t about to let him act all cocky like that and get away with it! You kissed him deeper, feeling his lip piercing cold against your lips and taking a small nibble at it. You pulled away, both of your faces bright pink. 

“...Just how I like it…” you whispered to him. You both pulled away and looked nervously around, taking sips of your drinks again. 

Your hand and his met somewhere in the middle and you interlocked your fingers, not minding that his hand was a bit clammy or him minding that your fingertips were like ice, both wishing this night would last forever and ever. You guessed you liked sweet things, too.


End file.
